


sans dabs

by Yoshichao



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dabbing, Gen, Joke Fic, Memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 06:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15018473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoshichao/pseuds/Yoshichao
Summary: Frisk wants to see Sans dab.





	sans dabs

"you want me to... what?"

Frisk wants you to dab, Sans! But even after repeating the request, the skeleton still looks confused. The bone around his eyesockets furrow in such a way that should be impossible, but is somehow totally possible. Monsters sure are funky little dudes.

"sorry kiddo, that must be a human thing." Sans shrugs apologetically, though his heart clearly isn't in the apology - he seems more bemused than anything. "you're gonna have to show it to me."

Ugh, how annoying! But fine! Frisk will grant the skeleton MERCY, just this once, and show this bony dweeb how it's done. The human gets in position - the Pre-Dab Stance, as the masters would call it - and waits for the perfect opportunity to...

_BAM!!_ Frisk lowers their head and swings their arms upwards, performing the perfect dab! The crowd goes wild! The judges are giving perfect tens across the board! One of them even holds up the rarely-seen ELEVEN while swiping a tear from their face. We are in Dab City, folks. Fireworks are going off. World peace is attained. War? Over. Gone. Everyone is holding hands and singing. It really is a beautiful day outside.

Sans watches carefully, though when Frisk peeks up over their arm, they happen to notice that the skeleton isn't in complete awe over the incredible miracle he just witnessed. He has no taste for the fine arts! Sans waits a moment longer, then finally speaks when Frisk doesn't make a move to do any other earth-shattering gestures.

"...is that it? that's all you want me to do?"

Is that it?! _"is that it?"_ he says!! Such buffoonery - Frisk doesn't even know why they give this uncultured bonehead the time of day. But - hm, yes - Frisk is certainly determined to see this through. No matter how foolish this skeleton may be now, he can be educated and shown the light. Frisk will make sure of that.

Frisk nods, and the skeleton lets out an airy noise that sounds like a chuckle. He's far too calm to be ready for the feat of Ultimate Dabbing, but Frisk bites their tongue and waits to see what Sans is capable of.

"heh, ok then. here goes." And he...!! ...lazily lifts his arms up into position. There is no purpose, no _emotion_. That is _not_ a dab. Frisk crosses their arms and gives him a disapproving stare.

"what? i'm doing it, aren't i?" Certainly not, Frisk retorts! It is the worst dab they have ever seen! The human does not bother to spare Sans' feelings, and the skeleton puts a hand to his chest in mock-pain. It, like his dab, is a lazy gesture. He does nothing to soften his bony grin or hide the amused twinkle in his sockets.

"ouch. you're breakin' my SOUL, kid." He is not even taking the criticism seriously! This is an outrage! Frisk demands Sans try again - this time with _passion_! Dab like he really means it!!

"geez, you're giving me a real workout. ok, how's this?" The second attempt is admittedly a little better - he actually tucks his head this time - but there is still... nothing. It's just an automatic gesture. Where's the _romance_?! The _spice_??

"starting to think you asked the wrong guy for this," Sans jokes, not looking all that bothered for someone who just did two of the worst dabs ever in a gosh dang row. How do you even _manage_ that?! "ok ok, i'll get it right this time. give me a countdown."

Frisk is skeptical - he does not seem ready for a countdown. Does he not realize how fast these numbers can go by? But Sans assures them he will be fine, and that this dab is gonna _rock some waves_. That sounds like a pun, and that makes Frisk confused, but they shake it off and decide to start the countdown anyways.

_Three!_

_Two!!_

**_One!!!!!!!_ **

The punchline is that Frisk suddenly finds themselves holding an ugly brown fish.

"heheh, whaddya think? perfect dab, am i right?"

Frisk throws down the fish in disgust! If they had a hat, they would throw that down too. Instead, Frisk calmly corrects Sans, informing him that this is, in fact, an olive flounder, and not a dab.

"heh, that's... uh, wait what? really?"

Interrupting this surely wacky and comical scene is an equally wacky and comical Papyrus. He is holding a basket of feathers. The audience is already laughing.

"HELLO HUMAN! IS MY BROTHER BOTHERING YOU WITH HIS LAZINESS AGAIN-- WHOOPSIE DOOPSIE!!!"

Papyrus slips on a patch of ice that certainly wasn't there before, and the basket goes flying out of his arms. Every single feather is propelled into the air from a funny little property called inertia, which Sans would be happy to teach you about if you were to ask. However, you cannot ask now, because he is buried in feathers. They flutter out of his skull and clothes whenever he moves. The audience is still laughing.

"hey bro, looks like you're--" But the shorter skeleton is unable to finish what was almost assuredly a pun, because he suddenly is overwhelmed by the tickle-ness of the feathers and... he sneezes!

And!

He!

**_DABS!!!!!!!!!_ **

It is the most incredible thing Frisk has ever seen. If there is a word that describes something above perfection, this would be it. The stance, the posture, that raw intensity of dab - this is the dab of the gods. A choir is singing. Frisk feels themselves transcending the mortal plane. Where are they transcending to? Doesn't matter. Never had the human been so grateful to have fallen down the mountain on that fateful day. This was it: the pinnacle. Nothing else - past or future - could compare to this experience.

The camera zooms out so we may better view the full scene. Papyrus is still lying flat on the ice; Frisk is shedding tears as they stare above in a trance. A dog is somewhere. Sans manages to knock the last of the feathers out of his skull, before turning to the audience and giving a classy wink.

"it's a living."

The audience laughs before erupting into cheers. The curtains fall. Sans dabs one last time before he is completely obscured, and the crowd goes bonkers. They are starting to break things. We cut to commercial in hopes that they will calm down before the next act.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks fr readign


End file.
